Chapter Three
I know that you still remember
We were born to be national treasures
When you told me we'd get back together
And you kissed me in a way that's gonna screw me up forever
~ Taylor Swift, Suburban Legends (Taylor's Version)
BPOV
"So," Seth crooned from his spot on the plane.
I ignored him, plopping myself down at the table and taking a muffin from the stewardess with a smile.
"Bella," he sighed, sitting across from me with a huff.
"Seth," I countered.
I wasn't mad. Couldn't be when Seth's meddling had started this whole… thing. Whatever this thing was.
I had no label and no idea what to expect from Edward or next week, but the one thing I did know was that it made me happy. Excited. The kind of giddiness that I hadn't felt for myself in a long, long, time.
I could never let Seth know that, though. He would become insufferable if he ever knew his meddling into my life was actually working out.
"Did he show up?"
Carmen's head popped up comically fast from where she sat on the other end of the plane, typing away. "Who?"
"Edward Cullen," Seth grinned. "I set them up. Dibs on man of honor at the wedding."
I choked on a blueberry.
"You're actually dating him?" Carmen asked.
"I have a date with him," I said hesitantly.
"Whose his publicist? I didn't know you were serious about the guy. We should meet to—"
"No," I snapped. "We're not going to meet with publicists or scour his socials for red flags. He's not… he's different."
Even I cringed as I said it.
But, it was true. After our evening together, I knew Edward was so far removed from the celebrity status his job gave him, one day in my life would be a deal breaker for him. He wasn't interested in headlines.
I told him that. Over and over, all night, I kept giving him an out. He refused to take it. Said he didn't care about the paparazzi or fans or rumors. That he was following his gut.
And I believed him. That he was in this for the right reasons. Maybe after our first date we'd find out we had nothing in common and weren't compatible but that was life. It was the reality of my life that I had to weigh the pros and cons of dating a man and how likely it was I thought he was dating me for… other reasons.
There were always tells. Little things you learned to pick up almost as soon as you met someone. The kinds of questions they asked, the way they looked at you, people probably thought they were subtle about their reactions but it was so blatantly obvious after you had been living in the fishbowl of fame for eight years.
Probably ninety-eight percent of the people I met saw me as an object. A brand. A dollar sign. A thing to give them content or followers or notoriety. You could even tell the difference between fans. Ones who genuinely liked me or my music were, without a doubt, my favorite people in the world. But there were also ones who just thought it was cool to meet a celebrity. Who wanted a viral video. Who didn't give a shit about me or my music but wanted a photo anyway because it was the cool thing to do.
It was a hard concept to wrap your mind around if you weren't living it. Seth liked to say I was paranoid. Especially after Jacob.
I could admit there was an element of paranoia about it, but it was also practical. Practical enough that I knew Carmen wanted to meet with his publicist or scour his socials for red flags.
I was going to take a page out of Edward's book for now, though, and trust my gut. Which was telling me that he was a good guy. Decent enough to fly down to LA and bring me Mexican food and stay up until three in the morning talking and not once try to make a move on me.
"I'm going up to Seattle next week," I told them both before turning toward Seth. "And you can't call dibs on man of honor after sending a strange man to my front door."
"Strange man," he scoffed. "You like him! I did you a favor."
"He could have been an ax murderer."
My amount of stalkers had increased as of late. It might have made me a tad paranoid.
Seth waved me off. "Whatever. I'm so going to be the man of honor."
—How You Get The Girl—
I wasn't sure what I was expecting, but the beautiful home nestled on the outskirts of Seattle surrounded by trees and forest and nature was not it. A bachelor pad, maybe. A penthouse in a highrise in the center of downtown.
The house was extravagant enough to make up for the modest location. But somehow still managed to seem cozy. It looked like a cozy little cabin with a modern twist. But cozy was probably a bit of an insulting word to describe what I was sure was a multi-million dollar home.
I knocked quickly before I could lose my nerve.
The sound of barking on the other side of the door distracted me enough until it swung open to a gloriously half-naked Edward Cullen with a loose towel wrapped around his waist.
"Shit," I breathed out, counting and recounting the abs that were staring me in the face.
"Fuck," Edward coughed, running a hand through his dripping hair.
I had to swallow half a dozen times to keep drool from pooling out the side of my mouth. He was a professional athlete, and there had been a few shirtless pictures of himself as I scrolled through his Instagram feed that first night, but seeing it in person… with water dripping down beneath the towel…
Eventually I made my way back up to his eyes. They were shining with mischief, sparkling emeralds. "You're early."
I felt a blush creep up my neck. My week was supposed to be spent resting. I had a laughably short break between nearly a year of touring and then album promotion. But the idea of spending the next few days alone in New York didn't sound very appealing. So I made the impulsive decision to spend my break in Seattle.
I shrugged. Hopefully it felt more nonchalant than I did. "You surprised me. I figured I should return the favor. Though, I have to say, I think it worked out much more in my favor," I admitted, eyes daring to drift back down his chest.
A throat cleared behind me. "Mind if I take a look around?"
I sighed, eyes reluctantly searching up for Edward's. "That's Sam. Head of my security detail."
Edward nodded, holding his hand out with an uncharacteristically fierce frown on his face. "Of course. There shouldn't be anybody else here."
He stepped aside and Sam didn't hesitate to let himself in. I hovered in the doorway, a knot of guilt settling in my gut.
"I'm sorry about him. He—"
Edward shook his head. "You don't have to apologize about needing security," he said quickly. Then he held his hand out for me with a grin.
I took it before I could over think the gesture. It was pathetic, really, the way something as simple and innocent as holding his hand had my heart threatening to beat out of my chest. It was warm and covered in calluses and dwarfed mine.
His thumb ran over my knuckles as he pulled me inside.
I was immediately accosted by tiny, fluffy paws jumping at my calves.
"You have a dog?" I gasped, my free hand reaching down to pet her adorably fluffy little head.
Edward smiled, bending down and scooping the little thing up with his free arm. "Daisy Mae," he said proudly.
She was a fluffy little thing. Probably no more than twenty pounds with tan curly hair and the face of an actual stuffed animal.
I loved her immediately. But must have been staring at her with a dumbstruck face because Edward's expression faltered.
"She's harmless. Loud, but—"
"Oh, I love dogs," I sighed. I had yet to meet a dog I didn't love. Big dogs, tiny ones, scruffy ones, fluffy ones. All adorable. All needing as many pets as I could give.
Edward smiled. "Do you have one?"
I reached out to scratch the top of her head. "No. I always wanted one. But I travel a lot and—Jacob was allergic."
Edward hummed, rubbing the little teddy bear/puppy with the hand he had wrapped around her. "Daisy was a stray. She showed up at the stadium one afternoon during practice a few years ago. She didn't have a chip or anything, and I had originally planned to keep her until I found her owners, but no one ever came forward."
I let out a pathetic whimper in the back of my throat as I eyed the bright eyed dog. "What breed is she?"
"Vet said she's probably a maltipoo."
I smiled up at him, relieved he managed to bypass the subject of Jacob with such ease. I pressed a kiss to the tip of Daisy's nose.
Edward's hand tensed in mine.
"All clear," Sam said quietly, rounding the corner. He gave me a firm nod and headed back outside.
Edward frowned as Sam closed the front door behind him. "He can stay in the house. I—"
"He's not a big people person," I told him. Truth was Sam was just giving us privacy. Especially after I floated the idea of coming over to the house solo.
I hadn't gone anywhere solo in… years.
"But we're a package deal, Sam and I," I sighed. "And the few other guys he has out there with him. Is… is that okay?"
Again, I expected him to run. Take the out and say it was too much.
Edward just smiled, hand tightening in mine. "You have to stop trying to break up with me."
I coughed out a gasp. "I wasn't. I—"
I was.
For his own good, though.
Daisy was suddenly placed in my arms. A tiny tongue licking my neck and making me giggle.
"Give me two minutes to get dressed then I'll give you a tour," Edward said, running an almost embarrassed hand through his hair as if he just realized our whole conversation so far had been with him nearly naked.
I—unsuccessfully—tried not to gawk at him as he walked away. But the muscles on his back as he walked… I buried my face into Daisy's fur to hide my blush in case he turned around.
I was more than happy to spend my two minutes with Daisy. But I reluctantly put her back on the ground when Edward showed back up.
It was unfair, really, how he was just about as mouthwateringly attractive in the black t-shirt and jeans as he had been in the towel.
He grabbed my hand immediately. It was a new development. There wasn't much physical contact between us when he visited me. We spent the evening on my couch, talking about everything and nothing, but there was no hand holding. Not even a kiss on the cheek as he left.
I was a fan of the hand holding.
Edward walked me through his house, Daisy always hot on our heels as we went. It was a gorgeous place, warm and cozy. Homey. Clean, but lived in. It was rustic, stone floors and deep walls but modern at the same time.
We ended up in the kitchen at the end of our tour.
"Drink?" Edward asked, opening his refrigerator.
"I'll take a water."
He nodded, smirking over at me as he filled a glass. "How'd you do it?"
I rolled my lips. "Emmett McCarty was very loose with your private information."
Emmett was also on the Seahawks. A tight end if my memory served me correctly. And just happened to follow me on Instagram and was quick to respond to my message.
"Emmett does love to meddle," Edward shook his head, sliding a glass of water across the island toward me. "Though I can't say I don't appreciate it this time. How long are you in town?"
I shrugged. "I have to be in LA for rehearsals Monday morning. But I'm… free until then. Not that you need to entertain me all week. I know you're busy. I'll probably spend most of my days passed out in my hotel room—"
"You can stay here," Edward offered quickly.
I shook my head. "I don't want to be in your way. I just… didn't want to be in New York."
I loved New York. Loved my apartment and the life I built for myself after my time in Nashville ended. But I got back yesterday after the last show and it didn't feel the same. I was restless and anxious and as soon as the idea of spending the week in Seattle crossed my mind, I couldn't let it go.
"Then stay here," he said. "I'll have practice during the day. But… I know you're busy. And the season is about to start. Logically, probably a pretty shit time for both of us to be getting into something new but—if you're in town for a few days… lets fucking do this."
My brows shot up.
Edward's lips twitched up to the right. "Let's see if this is something worth fighting for. Worth traveling across the country for."
Even as he said it, it was like he had already made up his mind. Like he already knew it was worth it.
It was a kind of optimism I realized I used to have. Something I didn't realize I had lost until this very moment.
I couldn't fight the smile tugging at my lips. "Okay," I nodded. "Sorry I didn't come bearing Mexican food. I could send Sam out to—"
Edward waved me off. "Do you like Italian?"
I gave him a firm nod. "Love it."
He rummaged through a drawer to his left and slid a menu across the island toward me. "I've tried basically the whole menu. You can't go wrong, no matter what you choose."
I smiled, sliding the menu back. "Just get me your favorite. I'm easy."
My cheeks flushed, eyes widening as I stared at Edward's own Cheshire grin. "My—my food preferences are easy. There's not much I don't like to eat. For food."
"I hear your stomach can't even handle dairy."
I chuckled. But was secretly impressed he remembered my off-handed comment about dairy. "Doesn't mean I don't like it."
He shot me a wink and pulled out his phone. He seemed to have a wonderful relationship with whoever was on the other side, having a quick little conversation before he placed his order. I was already reaching for my bag I had discarded on the corner of the counter when he was telling them to charge his card.
I was sliding a few bills toward him as he hung up.
Edward frowned, sliding them right back.
I sighed. "You paid for the Mexican food. I can pay for this."
Edward shrugged. "I have no doubt you can afford it, princess. But, so can I. And I personally would like to consider this our first date, which would make me a fucking asshole if I let you pay for it."
I rolled my lips together. "First date, huh?"
"You up for it?"
He grinned over at me, and I couldn't help but match it.
—How You Get The Girl—
We ended up sitting on his back patio. His land went on for acres, he told me. There was a small river a few miles back and enough space to expand the house if he ever wanted. His patio was spacious, deep wood with a pergola above us. Lights flickered on automatically once the sun started to set, twinkling against the darkening sky.
Daisy had her own little corner of the patio with a covered dog house and a pile of toys at her disposal.
I might have had a mental list of questions waiting for him as soon as we sat down for our dinner. Our date.
It was all stuff I'm sure the internet could have answered for me, but I wasn't a fan of learning about someone from articles online. Not when I knew ninety-nine percent of what a person could learn about me online was completely fabricated.
So, I had my questions locked and loaded. And learned as much as I could about Edward Cullen while I had him.
He grew up on the outskirts of Chicago, in a small but affluent community given his father was a doctor and his mother a rather successful interior designer. He played just about every sport out there growing up, but had a personal preference for football early on. But the real kicker was that he had always had a backup plan, and had graduated pre-med before he got drafted to the Seahawks right out of college.
"My parents moved out here once my sister went to college," he said with a fond smile that told me he loved his mother and father. "She went down to the University of Texas of all places. Said it was calling her. Then brought home Jasper Whitlock her first trip back home for the holidays."
I swirled my water glass, our food long forgotten as we continued talking. "What's she like? Your sister?"
"Alice is… a lot. In a good way, but a lot to handle. Very happy all the time. Very much a college sorority girl, too. And, I do have to warn you, quite the fan of yours."
My cheeks warmed. "That's sweet."
Edward smiled. "How's Seth?"
"Far too pleased with himself that his meddling worked."
"He's in your band?"
I nodded. "Yeah. I've never played a show without him. He's a pain in the ass, but all little brothers are. He's also my best friend. I don't know how I would survive the chaos of every day life without him."
Edward took a sip of his own water, both of us avoiding alcohol for the moment. He wasn't big on drinking when he had practice early in the morning, and I wanted a clear head for the craziness of the next few weeks.
"How awful is it?"
I knew immediately what he was asking. "Pretty fucking awful. It—it wasn't quite as bad before. When I was younger, and with Jacob, people were a little more respectful. Which is fucked whichever way you look at it. Either people were waiting until I was old enough to properly objectify and shit on or they were only holding back because I was engaged."
"You can tell me about it, if you want. If it'll help," he said softly.
I sighed. There was no use hiding it. I didn't want to hide it, either. I wanted to forget it ever happened, but according to my therapist that wasn't a very healthy way to look at the situation.
"There's not much to tell," I admitted. "We grew up together. Started dating at sixteen. Got engaged at twenty-one. And the morning I was getting ready to walk down the aisle he dumped me via a press release because I won Entertainer of the Year at the CMA's over him the week before."
I could have been imagining it, but I could have sworn I heard him mutter something that sounded like fucking prick under his breath.
It wasn't as humiliating as it usually was on the rare occasion I had to retell the story. There wasn't a hint of judgment or pity in his eyes. Mostly anger that matched my own, so I kept going. "It changed… the whole trajectory of not only my life, but my career. Which is unfair on a million different levels, but he didn't just dump me. He dumped me, then strung me along for a few months under the pretense that maybe we could work things out while simultaneously fucking anything with blue eyes and blonde hair and convincing my father to stab me in the back, too."
Edward frowned. "Your dad?"
I nodded. "Charlie works at the label I had been signed to since I was sixteen. I earned my spot," I added quickly. "But dad had started the label with one of his friends years before. And when I put out I Bet You Think About Me, I became public enemy number one in Nashville. Because nobody wanted to believe that golden boy Jacob Black could hurt a fly."
"Your dad blacklisted your album?"
I nodded.
"Fucking hell. What did your mom have to say about it?"
I shrugged. "She left when I was five."
"Christ. I'm sorry. I didn't know."
I shook my head, smiling despite the subject. "It's okay. I kind of like that you didn't. A lot of people… they come up and talk to me like they know me. And sometimes, when it's a fan, it's fine. But some people just… take it too far."
"Yeah," Edward sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I get that. Not on the same level, nowhere near it, but I get it."
I sat back, taking a deep breath of the fresh air. I had been on plenty of disastrous first dates since my relationship with Jacob ended, and I had always been incredibly relieved when they were over.
It would be a big disappointment when this night ended, though.
"So," I asked with a grin, trying my best to sound like I knew what I was talking about. "How's the season looking?"
Edward grinned across the table at me. "Good. Pretty damn good."
"Think you can score me some tickets to the Super Bowl?"
He hummed underneath his breath, eyes darkening just a bit as he looked me over with a wicked grin. "I'll do you one better, princess, and win you a Super Bowl ring."
A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed this one! I'm personally a little obsessed with these two and can't wait to see where we end up. Thanks for reading, and I'll see ya next time!
